Christmas, Are you here?
by Misty-Nala
Summary: Edward spends December with the Hughes family and goes through well known traditions. Drabbles, Hughes/Edward Parental, some Havoc/Edward brotherly. Havoc/Ed chapter up!
1. Chapter 1

**This is supposed to be a story consisting of Christmas Drabbles; one drabble for each day. I try to update this every day. Pairing will be Hughes/Edward parental, and some drabbles are Havoc/Edward brotherly. Enjoy!**

**...**

**...**

**1: Arrival**

**...**

It was the first day of December, the month of joy. On that day, it was Elysia who woke up first in the Hughes's household. Dressed in her pink nightgown, she climbed over the border of her bed and landed onto the wooden floor. Small feet thumped against the long red carpet as she stamped about to the guest room; the hallway was dark and absolutely silent. The girl stopped in front of a brown door, then jumped and took a hold of the handle, using her weight to press it down.

Slowly, she opened the door and peeked inside; it was still dark and there was no movement. Everything was just like it had been in the evening; a desk opposite the window, a closet on the corner on the right side of the door and a bed on the left side. The two-year-old ran to said piece of furniture and drew the covers away: nobody was there.

Tears filled the little girl's eyes and she left the bed like that, running out of the whole space. Making her way to her father's bedside, she kept wiping her eyes with her fists. Once she made it to her destination, Elysia sniffed quietly and called: "Daddy!"

The man sighed loudly through his nose and moved a bit, signaling the voice was being registered in his brain. He rubbed his eyes, yawning widely but when his eyes opened and he saw his little girl crying, all weariness was forgotten.

"Elysia," he said worriedly and wrapped his arm around the girl's back, drawing her close.

"What is it, sweetie?" The man kept his voice quiet, soothing the upset child.

The girl opened her mouth, voice high with disappointment: "You said Ed-Niisan would be here today but he isn't!"

Hughes who was still lying on his bed, shook his head, a pitying smile decoration his face: "Oh, sweetie, you understood it wrong. I said Ed- niisan would come today."

"What is it?" Gracia woke up next to her husband. The man smiled a bit, nodding his head towards their daughter.

"Little one is just so anxious here."

Elysia only sniffed and then took a hold of the light blue covers and struggled her way to her Mommy's bedside, crushing her father on the way. The man sighed, rubbing his now sore shoulder, and glanced at his clock.

"It's six already. There's no point in going back to sleep again."

....

.....

The day was normal for Major Maes Hughes: the same cases and day routines and yet, there were these unspoken expectations lingering in the air. Edward had been on various missions for three months now: in that time, he had not seen the boy.

The man paced back and forth on the betony ground of the station. The clock was a minute to seven pm. It was very dark already: there were no stars in the sky and the wind was freezing. For a moment, the man almost regretted not staying inside in the station cafeteria. Soon though, he casted those thoughts aside and wrapped his arms tighter around his body, hugging the red winter jacket he had brought for the boy. He was certain the regular one was not warm enough in this kind of weather.

Usually he loved being at work; figuring out the motives of crimes was like solving a puzzle. He had always liked all things that required brain work. Yet today, although he had been able to concentrate, he couldn't have helped glancing at the clock from time to time.

Finally, at 6.30 pm, Hughes had turned off the lights in his office and closed the door. The train station wasn't too far away but the traffic was at its worst. Better be safe than sorry: he didn't want Edward to wait for him after all the travelling he had been doing. Hughes sucked his lips for a minute and wondered whether the boy had changed. He had not seen him for two whole months.

The man snorted; he could still remember the one time when Edward had come back from a mission, hair dyed black.

"I like it," the boy had claimed, apparently not noticing that Gracia had almost had a heart attack when seeing the sudden change.

Still, it didn't mean he didn't know how he and his brother were doing. Hughes had received a letter from each destination, sometimes even pictures of the people and landscapes. He had to admit he was a bit jealous. Now that he had his family to take care of, he could go on far away missions much less. Hughes could still remember the excitement of travelling to foreign towns: it had always been an adventure and, the man smiled inwardly, on one of them he had met Edward.

"The train number 5 arrives in the platform 4," a woman's voice called through the loud-speakers. Hughes braised himself, honestly glad that the waiting was over.

The train arrived not even one minute later. Soon the high-technique vehicle had come to a stop and the doors opened. Men and women with children burst out first, eager to get to the first bus. Then the slower elderly people stepped out and after them the polite teenagers who had all the time in the world.

On seeing a small figure with a red coat, a smile spread across the man's face.

"Ed!" Hughes called although he knew he was tall enough for the boy to notice among the crowd. His assumptions were proved true as the boy run to him, dropped his suitcase and hugged him.

They stayed like that for a moment and then drew apart. Hughes took the boy's face into his hands and inspected the honestly smiling boy.

"You look great! How was the trip?"

"Boring," Edward shrugged laughing, teeth clattering in the cold weather. The man noticed this and gave the boy the jacket.

"Put this on so you won't get cold."

Edward did as he was told, eagerly, and burrowed himself into the warmth. The oversized jacket was one of Edward's treasures. Hughes smiled at the sight as he lifted the boy's luggage and put his hand onto the boy's back and encouraged him to walk forward with a slight push.

They made their way to the car and the man opened the driver's door. Edward opened the backseat one and was just about to sit down onto the bench when Hughes, already placed on his seat, looked back at him.

"You can sit in the front so we can catch up."

Edward got startled: he was never allowed to ride in the front but, now that the opportunity arouse, he wouldn't miss the chance. The boy placed his suitcase onto the floor and slammed the door shut. On making it to the seat next to Hughes, he was shaking with excitement.

"Don't get used to this, kiddo," the man shook his head, laughing at the look on the boy's face: He looked like Christmas Eve had come in advance. "Next time you'll be on the front is the day you get your driving license."

"Can't I even practice? Do you want me to risk getting motion sick when I start driving school?"

"You can't get motion sick on the front seat," Hughes started the car and made their way off the parking place. Edward fell silent and stared out of the window. The trip had been long and he was tired: ranting was certainly not something he wanted to be doing at the moment.

The man glanced at his left and smiled gently at the sight. Keeping his left hand on the steering wheel, he placed his right one on Edward's left shoulder and rubbed it.

"It's good to have you back, kiddo. You're sure going to have a fun vacation."

Edward threw the hand away grinning: "Yeah, I'm sure of it."

....

**Reviews are always welcome. Next up: Christmas Calender**


	2. Chapter 2

**Do not take any pressures, that's what I keep telling myself. This is just for fun: sorry for the crappy ending.**

**.....**

**Christmas Calender**

**...**

The next morning, Hughes, dressed in his white and blue striped pyjamas and a red dressing gown, walked to the kitchen and found his wife making porridge for the children. The man tiptoed bare feet behind Gracia and wrapped his arms around her shoulders in an instant.

"Good morning, honey," he planted a kiss on her cheek but the woman only grunted and pushed the man away.

"Beat it!"

The man blinked his eyes in surprise; usually Gracia didn't mind him showing his love for her. Maybe it was her time of the month again; she always got irritated when certain things happened in her body.

"So," Hughes sat onto the chair next to the table, keeping his voice steady, not wanting to make his wife sulky. "What is bothering you?"

Gracia walked away from the stove, pressing her left temple with her hand, and took a note book from the counter top.

"There," she sighed and threw it gently to her husband. "The list of things I have yet to do."

Hughes watched as the woman went to the coffee maker and opened the cupboard. Then he shrugged and opened flipped over the sun flower painted cover and began to check the carefully written list of tasks.

"This isn't any more than usually," he bit his lip, reading every sentence carefully. He had already been aware that there were things they had to buy- after all, Christmas was based on giving.

"This is Edward's first Christmas with us," Gracia said, walking back to the table, carrying a simple white coffee mug and metallic coffee pot. On reaching her husband, she set the dish onto the wood and slightly bent the position of her other hand, making the fine liquid pour into the mug. "I want everything to be perfect."

Shaking his head, the man wrapped his arms around the woman's waist, pulling her closer to himself. Gracia cried out in surprise and dropped the pot onto the table, low enough that it didn't fall off and make the floor dirty.

"Honey,everything will be just fine," Maes smiled reassuringly, trying to use his own calm character to make her wife relax. "Edward isn't expecting miracles. What he wants is a normal holiday. Remember, Christmas is the same in Central and Resembool."

The woman smiled, slightly and leaned against her husband, enjoying the warmth seeking through the material of her dressing gown.

"I guess you're right," she purred quietly. "Did he tell you that?"

Hughes sneered, a dry smile decorating his face. "No, I'm just guessing. I hope I'm right."

"Morning," Edward walked to the kitchen, yawning widely: automail leg thumped against the floor. The parents drew away from their half-embrace and turned to look at the boy.

"Sweetie, why are you up so early?" Gracia asked, suspecting that something was wrong.

"What do you mean early?" The boy shook his head like a dog and turned to check the time from the clock, stirring his eyes to see the proper time. "I got up five o'clock every morning for the past two weeks."

From the table, Hughes kept his eyes on the boy, gulping down the first dose of his coffee. Edward slouched to the stove, barely even lifting his feet on the way. The boy lifted the can of the pot and grimaced.

"Why are you making porridge? I'm not a baby."

"It's good for you," Gracia walked to the boy, an instructive tone in her voice. She took a bowl from the countertop and filled it with food. "You never have time to eat well, so now you'll have to stick with a healthy formula."

The boy scowled at the woman like a five-year old who doesn't want to eat his vegetables. Nevertheless, he took the breakfast dish but muttered under his breath: "You guys are killing me."

Hughes chuckled but quieted down when he got a bad glance in turn. Edward sat down opposite him and began to pick at his porridge. His face was solemn, probably for weariness but still, the man wanted to make the boy feel a bit more at home.

And he knew just the way for it.

The boy glanced up from his food on the sound of the feet of the chair scraping against the floor. Hughes went to the countertop and took the left one of two colorful cardboard boxes.

"You forgot to open the first box," he said gently, showing the front picture: it was a painting of children dancing around the Christmas tree.

"Oh," Edward's eyes widened and a happy, surprised appeared onto his face. He took the calendar and tore the plastic off it. "I haven't had one of these in years!"

Both Gracia and Hughes watched as the boy traveled his flesh hand's forefinger along the surface, looking for the right date. Finally he found the box with a number **1 **on the top. With his thumb, he pressed the lid open and turned calendar over, making the piece of chocolate drop onto the table.

"A candle," Edward smiled and right after the word put the sweet into his mouth. Savoring the taste, he smacked and moved his tongue in his mouth, trying to catch every slight tingle of aroma. During his travels, it was these kinds of things that he had missed the most: peaceful mornings and good old chocolate from the Candy Shop in Central.

.....

**Next up will be: Christmas Carols. Reviews are always welcome**


	3. Chapter 3

**I failed my driving test again. Well, third time's the charm.**

**...**

**Christmas Carols.**

**....**

At Wednesday evening, Edward was laying on his bed, reading a mystery book. Usually he only read ones about alchemy or biology but, once in a while, he granted himself a moment to snap out of his usual self-discipline. His head laid on a puffy pillow and the book rested on his stomach, hands holding it upright.

A far away melody reached his ears and cut off his concentration.

"The radio is too loud!" He called, hoping it would have some effect. Yet, the sound went on, not allowing him to continue reading and find out what would happen to the main character.

Edward threw the book to the corner and stood up, muttering some swear words under his breath. He got out the room and walked down the stairs; music got louder each step. The melody sounded familiar, yet, the boy could not put his finger on where he had heard it before. On reaching the living room, his eyes went wide.

"Hughes," he gasped, not believing his eyes. The man was sitting on a stool and playing a dark brown piano. Not stopping playing, he turned around and looked at the boy; his eyes told it was okay to come closer.

"I didn't know you could play," Edward whispered, walking to the instrument as quietly as possible: he didn't want to risk distracting the man.

"Guess I never told you," Hughes said, partially deep in his thoughts. He was swaying slightly in the tempo, following the changes in melody.

"Where did you learn?" The boy watched how the long fingers traveled on the keys.

"I took lessons until I was eighteen and went to the Military Academy. I could be a professional if I had continued but I wanted to do something else."

Edward quieted down, leaning onto the right side of the instrument, next to the higher keys. The piece of music Hughes was playing was filled with harmony. It was very sad yet hopeful combination. Tempo was slow and, although the main composition was simple, there was something fascinating in the whole thing.

Suddenly, Hughes set all of his fingers onto the keys, making a loud discarded sound and causing the boy to jump back in surprise.

"Now," the man took a book from the floor; the boy had not noticed it before. "Let's sing something nice."

"You want me to sing?" Edward asked not believing his ears.

"Of course," Hughes flipped leafed through the pages, checking the songs. "You have a nice voice, you could use it sometimes."

The man found the page he was looking for and set the book onto the stand, starting to play. Edward nodded his head, recognizing the melody immediately.

"_The First Noel, the angel_- NO!"

Hughes made the same sound as before, turning his head to look at the boy: "What?"

Breathing in deeply, the boy said: "I am an atheist. Is there some song that does not include higher powers and angels and all that?"

The man began to search again, muttering something close to "narrow ideology". Finally, he leaned back, letting Edward examine the choice first.

"Is this good enough?" There was a clear tinge of annoyance in his voice. Edward nodded approvingly and hawked to clear his throat while Hughes began playing once again. The cheerful prelude made the boy sway in his place as he fixed his gaze to the page of the book and opened his mouth.

"_Dashing through the snow_

_In a one horse open sleigh_

_O'er the fields we go_

_Laughing all the way_

_Bells on bob tails ring_

_Making spirits bright_

_What fun it is to laugh and sing_

_A sleighing song tonight_"

When Hughes started to play the chorus, Edward turned to look at the man, making sure he caught his attention. When he got a curious look, he explained the reason for his demands:

"Even Christmas Songs need to make some sense."

....

**Next up will be: Jinggle Bells. Now, what to write about that? Reviews are welcome!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I know I spelt Noel wrong in the last chapter. I'll maybe correct that mistake some day.**

**...**

**Jingle Bells**

**...**

The Hughes's house was big; four bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, toilet, bathroom, utility room, basement, garage and attic. The last one was a place Edward had never been to. By what he had heard, all the things Gracia didn't want anyone to see where put there after their usage.

Friday, after work, Hughes decided to visit the said space, and check the condition of their Christmas Decorations. At the end of the corridor upstairs, there was a door that Edward had never gone through. Following after Hughes, the boy climbed the narrow stairs, keeping his hand on the wall in order to not to lose his balance.

"Here we are," The man climbed the last stair and stepped onto the wooden floor stage: the height difference was almost a meter. The step was easier for Hughes since he had longer feet but Edward needed the man to reach out his hand and pull him up.

Once there, the boy looked around: it was dark and dusty in the attic, the only light came from the window on the farthest wall. Dozens of card board boxes were piled up, furthermore there were other kinds of objects that Edward couldn't quite place.

"Now," Hughes flicked the light switch and the room lit up. "Let's find a box with text _**Christmas**_ on the top."

The pair tampered through various places, all the while talking with each other and examining the objects they found.

"Hey," Edward said, opening one of the smallest boxes. "These belong to Christmas."

Hughes, who had been checking an old trunk, lifted his gaze to the boy and walked to him carefully: now not-organized boxes covered the path. He gazed down to the contents and pushed the boy away carefully.

"You're right," he closed the receptacle and handed it to Edward. The boy balanced the newly added weight in his arms for a moment and when he was certain his hold was steady, Hughes let go and allowed the boy to carry it.

"Let's get out of here," the man said, rubbing his hands in order to warm them up. His teeth were clattering slightly. Edward was also feeling the cold as a heavy pressure in his midriff.

"Don't you guys heat this place up?"He asked, brushing up his hold a bit: his flesh hand's fingers were beginning to become numb. Hughes shrugged, stepping of the attic onto the highest stair.

"We rarely even visit this place. Besides, this is so high up that heating is almost in vain."

The man extended his arms to receive the luggage.

"Easy, easy," he muttered as the boy slowly let his hold lessen. Hughes thought it was safer that he carried the portable item; he was stronger and had better balance.

Once the box was fully in Hughes's arms, Edward shut the lights off and dropped himself onto the now unoccupied stair: the man had already begun his way down.

This time, with the box, they had to walk a bit slower. The man kept his hold steady but was still minding his steps. On reaching the top of the stairs, Edward wound past Hughes to open the door. They were welcomed by bright light and warmth.

"Did you find it?" Gracia's voice came from the kitchen.

"Yes," The husband called, trying to make his hold better. "We left you things to clean up."

They took the box to the livingroom and began to separate different ornaments from each other: tiny statues, pictures and window ornaments each went to their separate piles.

...

As they were working, Elysia walked out of her room: she had been coloring and wanted to show her drawings to her parents. On reaching the stairs, she turned around and began to go down the stairs in all fours, as if the route was a ladder. She was concentrated the whole time and kept a tight hold of her picture.

Then she saw something that caught her interest. It was a golden bell and it had a red ribbon tied up in a bowtie.

"Daddy!" Elysia called, standing up in the middle of the stairs. A second later, the man came, thinking something was wrong.

"What is it sweetie?"

The girl showed him her discovery. "I found a golden bell!"

Hughes shook his head at the girl's delighted face, smiling gently and went to pick her up into his arms.

"It's not actual gold, Ellie."

"It looks like it," the girl claimed: she couldn't understand how things could be something else than what they seemed to be. Her father only bounced her up in his arms and began to walk to the living room, to the rest of the family.

"Listen," Elysia waved the bell and it let out a beautiful jingle. Edward smiled amazed.

"I didn't know those bells actually may let out a noise."

"What more is there that you don't know," Hughes lowered the girl down and sat down next to her. He looked at the boy, a surprised smile decorating his face. Edward only showed his tongue at the man.

Suddenly, the phone rang.

"Thank you," the boy breathed out, grateful for the interruption. He got up and went to answer the device.

"Hello, The Hughes's residence, Edward Elric speaking."

_"Hey, Ed!"_

Hughes noticed how a huge, delighted smile came across the boy's face.

"Hey, Havoc!"

_"I had some free time and thought that I could call you. How have you been doing?"_

"I'm okay, great actually, just being spoiled here," Edward sat down onto the couch next to the phone table.

_"Listen, I'll go straight to the point, it's almost seven o'clock already. You know it has been snowing for a few days now."_

"Yeah, I've noticed," the boy glanced through the window, checking the weather.

_"I have free time tomorrow and I thought to go to a skiing-centre. You know the new one that was just opened here. Would you like to go with?"_

"I'd love to! I haven't been working out for a few days."

_"That's great. How about I pick you up at… say, nine o'clock. It takes some two hours to drive there."_

"Yeah, that sounds great," Edward smiled, and right at that moment, snow began to fall to the ground. The boy smiled at the sight and hoped the snowfall would go on through the night. He hadn't been skiing since last winter and was eager to start one of his dearest hobbies again.

Elysia rang the bell in rhythm with the falling snowflakes: it really was winter.

**...**

**Next time we will be skiing with Havoc! Remember to come by then. Reviews are always welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This is slightly longer than other drabbles so this is for the whole weekend. Thank you for reviews! And baconinthesoap64, if the last drabble had been yaoi, the name would have been jingle balls. =)**

**Happy Independence day to all Finns!**

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Skiing

"Ed," A silent voice called, shaking the sleeping figure from the shoulder.

Edward curled up deeper into his covers, closing his eyelids tighter, and muttered something incoherent. Havoc chuckled at the sight and began to pull the covering cloth off the boy. Unconsciously, Edward's fingers grasped onto the cover and held their hold steady.

"Edward," the man continued the battle, making steady pulls, hoping the hold would loosen. "When I say I'll come at certain time, it means I will come then."

The boy was still half-asleep and longed for warmth: it was chilly in the room, Havoc noticed. Maybe the heating system wasn't working properly. He understood the boy's needs but knew that right now, sudden change in temperature would be needed to wake him up.

"Edward," Havoc started, crouching down and said everything directly into the boy's ear. "As entertaining as this battle is, I've no intention to spend the rest of my day here. Now, I give you ten seconds to wake up on your own and if you don't…well," the man shrugged, a faint smile creeping onto this face. "Then I'll have to do it the tougher way."

He kept his hold steady; yet, the boy relaxed and moved onto his left side, back facing the wall. Havoc took in a deep breath and began counting:

"One."

Ne response.

"Two."

Edward only scratched his nose and moved a bit on his place.

"Three," Havoc fastened the phase a bit, hoping it would catch the boy's attention.

"Four, five."

The boy raised his upper body slightly. First Havoc thought it was a sign of waking up but his assumption proved to be in vain as Edward only smacked his pillow once to make it more comfortable and then returned to his previous position.

The man breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself down. He prayed the higher powers for patience: Lord knew it was needed with the boy. As good a company as he was, Edward could be a real nuisance when in the mood.

"SIXSEVENEIGHTNINETEN!" He called and in an instant, drew the cover off the boy. Edward curled up tighter: his pajamas were not enough to protect him from the cold winter air. The boy's yellow eyes opened a bit and he stirred against the bright morning light. He traveled his gaze to the blurry figure at the end of his bed and drew in a quick breath: "Havoc!"

"Yeah," the man nodded, smiling slightly: the boy looked like he had been about to have a heart attack. "Did you already forget."

"No, I didn't. I… I just… had trouble sleeping."

"Oh, really," he replied with mock compassion. He didn't mean anything bad: this was more like a game between the two of them. E had already learnt the obvious signs. He would know when Edward had actually seen a nightmare.

The boy nodded eagerly but Havoc would take none of it: "You were reading that book again, weren't you?"

"Sorry."

"It's okay," the man shook his head, forgetting about the morning troubles, at least for now. He would later on remind the boy of it in every occasion possible.

Edward hurried up and left the covers to Havoc's hands. The man wrapped them up into a ball and dropped onto the bed.

"Go and eat something for breakfast," he smirked and slapped the boy onto the bottom, making him hurry. "I'll be waiting."

...

...

Edward had started skiing last year. He remembered mentioning to Hughes that he used to love skiing when he was a child. Yet, automails had made it tougher to keep on with his hobby.

Hughes had been investigating the problem and then found a shop where they sold special sport accessories. The pair had found skis that were suitable to people with artificial limbs; they had been awfully expensive but Hughes had reassured him that money was not the deciding part. If Edward wanted to ski, he would and the prize wouldn't be a problem.

And he had to admit, he had been using the red skis a lot; last winter, he and Havoc had gone to different centers almost every weekend. Sometimes they had been over the night.

While skiing down the unfamiliar hill, Edward kept testing his abilities. It would take a while to get used to this hobby again but he was enjoying every minute.

It was still snowing but only slightly. There were a lot of people but Edward and Havoc did not care of the fact. They slid down the hill, sometimes racing. Wind hovered to their faces and made them red beside the area of the eyes hid by goggles.

A few hours after they arrived, they went to have a snack in the cafeteria. They choose a table with couch seats and waited for their drinks and food. They were both feeling the exhaustion and slumped down, thankful for a break.

Havoc lighted a cigarette and noticed that the boy was rubbing his flesh ankle.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"Nah," Edward shook his head. "I just haven't been skiing for some time."

"Me neither," the man shrugged, taking in a deep breath of nicorette smoke. "It takes a while to get used to the strain again."

"You've got it easier. You don't have automail parts you need to be worried about. "

"Don't get all sulky. I was just saying the obvious."

"I'm not being sulky!"

"Don't you yell at me!"

The boy turned his head away, still rubbing his ankle. Havoc watched him closely and waited. He was used to these kinds of outbursts. Ever since Edward had reached puberty, his moods could change drastically. But with Edward, the good thing was that he never stayed mad for long. And the man himself had a soft spot for children.

The man rose up from his seat and moved next to the boy. Gently, he took the ankle onto his lap and removed the skiing shoe and the two pairs of socks. Then he rubbed the foot slightly.

"Where does it hurt?"

Edward bit his lower lip and tapped the area with his automail arm. Havoc nodded and began to massage.

"This is the same area as with me. It must be the strain."

The boy lied himself down on the seat, enjoying the feeling of his muscles relaxing. At that moment, a charming young waitress came to their table to bring their orders. She lowered two cups of steaming chocolate, a cheese and ham baguettes onto the table. She looked at the scene confused.

"Do you need some help?" She asked, directing the question to Havoc. The man gave the woman an easy smile and waved his hand

"No, this is just a little strain."

The woman left, sending them yet another worried glance. Edward wiped his bangs off the front of his eyes and looked at Havoc: the man was still trying to recover the usual state of his foot.

"You know," the man said, not looking at the boy. "Maybe you need some Military policy to get out of that in sleeping habit of yours."

"What do you mean?" The boy inquired quietly.

"Well," Havoc started, shrugging slightly. "When I was in Isvaal, we were forced to follow the orders. Every morning, a commanding officer came to our tent and yelled us to wake up. Lord help if you were late."

The man rubbed the boy's foot with long, massage movements and gazed into the boy's eyes, smirking

"So, maybe I should come to your room and yell your Military rank. No one ever uses it, you'll be surprised."

Edward smiled humored, took his hat from the seat and threw it at the man. Havoc caught it laughing but decided not to take the fight up to the next stage. After all, there were other people who probably wanted to be in peace

...

....

It was already getting late. Sunset lighted up the whole sky. There were much fewer skiers than before and the hills were much more spacious.

Havoc looked at Edward.

"I think we should leave soon."

A mischievous smile appeared onto the boy's face.

"Let's race down. The loser will offer ice cream."

"Deal," Havoc nodded. "Hope you've got money with you."

The pair hurried down, skiing with ease. They were both tired but decided to push the feeling away and just enjoy the adrenaline rush in their bodies.

Edward bit his teeth together: his ankle was hurting. Massage had helped some but now the pain came back twice as bad. He longed for rest and could not wait to get back down.

Havoc inspected boy's movements and noticed something was wrong. Edward seemed to be losing his balance.

Then the boy's right foot slipped. Havoc gasped as Edward lost control of his movements and surged into the nearby forest with a yelp. Then there was a horrible noise of crashing and then absolute silence.

The man made his way to the scene and pushed the bushes away, looking for any sign of the boy.

"Edward!" He yelled, hoping the child would answer. When he didn't get any response, he unhooked his skis and settles them onto the snow, the peaks towards the sky. The man lowered himself down to all fours and crept to the depths of the flora. There were sharp perches growing from trees and bushes: he didn't want to get any wounds to his face nor tear his clothes into pieces. Havoc worried whether the boy had been able to dodge before the hit.

He didn't have to travel far: only a meter away, he found pieces of the boy's skis. And a bit farther, Edward was lying in front of a huge pine tree.

"Oh no," Havoc whispered to himself, crawling to the unmoving figure. He took the boy's face into his hands and inspected it carefully: Edward's eyes were closed and he had numerous cuts, some of them were bleeding.

"Ed," the man called quietly. There was no question of what had happened: the boy had crashed into a tree and lost consciousness.

Taking off the boy's goggles, Havoc opened the boy's eyelids and found the eyes rolled to the back of the boy's head.

"C'mon, kid," he slapped the cheek carefully. He didn't dare to use much force, he had no idea of the inner damages. Edward might have a broken neck or internal bleeding. But he knew one thing he had to check.

"This might hurt a bit," Havoc told as he drew the boy's head back, keeping his left hand under the neck. "But I'm going to be as careful as possible okay."

He was mostly only talking to himself, trying to keep himself in control. Yet, he knew familiar voice would help Edward regain his senses faster. Unless he was already dead.

The man put his ear in front of the boy's mouth and listened, hoping that even the smallest drift of air would go by his ear. The hope was in vain.

"Dammit!" Havoc swore, taking off his gloves. "You just can't make things simple, can you!"

He opened the boy's jacket to get chest more room to rise. He closed the boy's nose and blew a deep breath into his mouth and that way to his lungs.

Havoc had been prepared for something to happen. He had taken the Military First Aid classes and knew how to treat various wounds and states. Yet, the only thing he had seriously thought would happen was a sprained ankle or muscle, maybe a dislocated joint. He had not even thought it would go this serious.

"Please," he whispered as he listened the boy's lungs let the air out. "Breathe, dammit!"

He pressed his lips tighter against Edward's, making sure not even the slightest drop of air would escape from its route. The boy's face was pale but the pulse was strong and steady: a clear evidence Edward was going to live. It had to be it.

"I'm not leaving you here," Havoc said through his clenched teeth. "So you better wake up!"

...

....

A far away voice creeped into Edward's mind. He felt like he was sleeping. He felt relaxed and wanted to stay that way forever.

The voice just kept saying things he couldn't understand. Hovering of the wind and screams of delight seemed to raise and drop as he was more or less aware of his surroundings.

"Come on, kid," Someone slapped him. The pain pierced through his cheek to his head and made him lose his consciousness.

He had no idea how long he was out; it could very well have been hours or days even, but considering the fact that that same person was still beside him, he estimated to have been out only for a minute or so. Yet, he didn't care. Why couldn't he always feel this good? He didn't feel any pain now, his body felt to be a light weather.

"Edward!"

His heart skipped a beat. The voice was Havoc, it could be nobody else. Well, if Havoc was there, everything would be okay. He trusted the man with all his heart.

Then, out of nowhere, a mouth covered his. Warm air made its way through his windpipe to his lungs. Was Havoc kissing him? Why was he doing so? By what he knew, Havoc was only interested in women. They were good friends but it didn't allow the man to do what he was doing.

His lungs slackened and he heard Havoc counting: 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.

"Eight," the man whispered and breathed into him again.

He had not noticed he wasn't breathing anymore. If it was true, it would explain the situation. He had taken a First Aid class when he had joined the military. He knew about CPR but he would have never believed he would be a victim needing it.

Suddenly, all of his senses came back to him. He started coughing, bending hisspine to get fresh air into his lungs. He felt how Havoc turned him onto his side, and rubbed his back, muttering some nonsense into his ear.

Then, he felt sick. The food he had had earlier came rushing out of his mouth. A banging pain nearly split his head in two. He cried silently, hoping he would just die right there; no one should feel as bad as he was feeling now. Havoc was holding his head up so he wouldn't choke into his own stomach contents. Not even the man's touch could make him feel any better. He tried to open his eyes but failed: the light was way too bright.

Once his stomach was empty, the pain went away. He breathed in deeply, trying to get enough air into his lungs. He heard Havoc calling for help. Then, everything faded into darkness.

...

...

Once in the hospital, Havoc sat on one of the seats in the waiting area. Hughes occupied the other seat: he had called the man as soon as he had arrived at the hospital. The younger man tapped his foot against the floor impatiently.

"I'm sorry."

Hughes sighed irritated: "Havoc, I'm not blaming you. It was an accident."

"I saw he was having problems with his ankle. I should have forced him to take a rest," The man kept saying the same things as before. Hugehs shook his head, knowing the Havoc was shocked.

"Edward can only blame himself. He wanted to last as long as you would, yet, there's no way he could have managed it."

The Doctor came to the room.

"You must be here for Mr. Elric, right?"

"Yes," Hughes stood up and shook hands with the man: he seemed to be in his forties and was wearing the regular white jacket. "I'm Maes Hughes. I'm acting as his guardian."

"Well," the Doctor checked his notes. "Edward is doing just fine. He is suffering from a concussion and needs to stay here until tomorrow. We will be monitoring him closely for that. Also, he is suffering from a strained ankle but it is nothing serious. We already bandaged him up and the injury will take about a week to heal."

"So, I can take him home tomorrow?" Hughes inquired. The older man nodded, proving his assumptions true.

Havoc sighed deeply, grateful that the boy was doing much better than had appeared to be.

"Can I see him?" Hughes asked, concern evident in his voice. After getting a nod from the doctor, the man looked at Havoc, making sure he was doing better than earlier.

"Do you want to come too?"

The younger man thought of the suggestion for a moment but then shook his head.

"No, you just go. I'll see him later."

Hughes merely nodded and followed the doctor out of the waiting room. They walked through the corridor, passing many doors and patients: some of them were lying on beds right on their way.

Finally, they came to a private room and the doctor opened it for him. Hughes hesitated for a moment but then entered the space.

Edward lied on a white sheeted bed, wearing a light, green costume. A heart monitor showed his pulse and an IV was hooked onto his left hand. The boy appeared to be sleeping; his chest was raising and falling rhythmically.

The man gulped down a factor of his fear and sat onto a chair next to the bed. He extended his hand to pet the sunny hair.

"You poor thing," He whispered and moved his hand to stroke the boy's cheek with his fore finger.

Then, at the touch, Edward opened his eyes slightly and turned to look at the man. Hughes smiled, honestly glad the boy reached consciousness.

"Hello, there."

The boy was silent for a moment, wondering what the words meant: "Hey."

The voice was husky, obviously because of a dry throat.

"How are you doing?"

"Okay. I'm tired," Edward closed his eyes, burrowing deeper into his pillow. Hughes bit his lip, trying to keep his emotions in control.

"Then go to sleep," He whispered, continuing to pet the hair. "You need rest. I'll be guarding you here."

He kept his hands in the movement, mostly because he wanted to feel useful. Yet, he knew he could not take the pain away, only make the situation bearable.

Moonlight lit the room and after a long time, turned into dawn and through all that time, Hughes continued to sit by his son's bedside. Right now, there was nothing more important. No one else needed him more than Edward did. He dozed occasionally but held on the child's hand, made sure he knew he was there. After all, Hughes had sworn himself he would protect and take care of the boy in any occasion possible. He wasn't the type to break promises. To him, Edward meant more than his own life.

...

....

**Reviews are always welcome. Hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A short drabble today; can't write much with Edward being in his current state. **

**...**

**Wish List**

"Daddy, can you help me?"

Hughes lifted his gaze from the newspaper he was reading. He had gone into a morning shift and therefore had had to be at work before morning paper.

"Sure, sweetie," he replied, setting the paper down. He had read all the interesting parts anyway. The girl bounced in happiness and jumped into her father's lap. The man shushed her instantly, pointing to the sleeping figure next to him.

"Ed-Niisan needs his sleep so we have to be quiet."

The boy lied on the couch, his feet beside the man's legs. He was wearing a gray sweater and slacks. The book the boy had been reading had dropped onto the floor as he had become sleepy: Gracia had covered the child with a blanket and put a cushion under his head.

The girl nodded and sat up properly, her beck leaning onto her father's chest. She had a toy book and a piece of paper and a pen in her hands.

"Can you wite these down when I point?" Elysia asked, not yet able to pronounce her r's properly. Hughes nodded and prepared to write.

By what he heard, the girl wanted a lot: new dolls, a doll house, books and bikes etc. He decided the girl needed some limits with her wish list: Elysia was not allowed to wish for every single variation of the same toy. To his mind, it was ridiculous to product the same doll with five differently colored hairs.

"I want this too," the girl pointed to the picture of a pink pony just when Edward moved in his place. Hughes turned his gaze to the boy, inspecting his state.

"How are you doing there?"

Edward stirred a bit: "I'm alive."

"Nii-san!" Elysia called so loud both the man and the boy got startled. Hughes hushed the girl immediately: Edward was still suffering from his concussion.

"Nii-san," the girl started again, her voice now nothing but a whisper. "I'm making a wish list. You should do one too."

"I'll do it if it makes this headache go away," the boy said, his automail hand on his forehead to lessen the banging feeling. Hughes set the little girl down and moved to the boy, taking the blanket off him.

"Ellie, will you go to Mommy and ask her to bring that medicine the Doctor gave Edward. I'll get him to his room."

The man helped Edward stand up and brought the boy's flesh arm around his own shoulders, supporting him. They made their way to the stairs and began to walk to the boy's room. Edward was lowering only a fracture of his weight onto his injured ankle.

"It's just stupid."

Hughes looked down at the boy, surprised by his words.

"What is stupid?" He inquired, making sure they both kept their balance.

"Christmas: all the wish lists and trees and decorations. There's no point in anything."

The man stayed quiet, knowing Edward was not completely in his senses. Although he had been home since the day before, the boy was still weary and suffering from the after impacts of the crash. The Doctor had assured him that Edward would not suffer any permanent damage but Hughes knew that he would be suffering hugely for a few days.

Finally they made it to the guest room the boy had occupied. As he lowered the child onto the bed, Hughes noticed the unshed tears in his eyes.

"Is the pain that bad?" He kneeled beside the bed, petting the hair sympathetically.

"I'm sorry I broke the skis. I swear I will pay you back."

"Shh…" He whispered as Gracia ame to the room, carrying a tall glass of water and a pill. The boy rose into a half-sitting position and took his medicine. Once he was finished, he lied back down onto the mattress and Hughes covered him up so he was as warm as possible.

"Do not worry about it," the man ordered. "The only thing that matters is that you didn't get any more hurt. Things could have gone much worse."

Edward closed his eyes, tears leaking from under his eyelids. He sniffed quietly: he was not able to control his rushing emotions.

Hughes stayed by his side, shushing him quietly and that voice made him feel much better.

"Tomorrow you will be feeling better already," he heard Gracia say, the ever same warm tone in her voice.

Edward nodded and relaxed; how he hoped it was tomorrow already.

**...**

**Reviews are always welcome! **


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